


Minnesota

by Darwin_xf



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fifty State Challenge, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 19:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darwin_xf/pseuds/Darwin_xf
Summary: Mulder and Scully work a case along the desolate North Shore of Lake Superior





	Minnesota

“Scully,” Mulder said after she’d stepped inside the door of the guest lodge. “I haven’t even touched you, and you’re already this wet?”

She shook her head, shedding rivulets of fresh rain onto the welcome mat as she kicked off her boots. “You wish, Mulder.”

“Fervently,” he said, nodding. “I heated up the chili Henry left for us. I’m starving. And sore. I’m not used to moving like that anymore.”

“Same here,” Scully said, slipping out of her coat, which was soaked through to the fleece liner. Even before she’d been caught in the early spring deluge, the jacket had been wrong for the conditions. “We must have covered thirty miles today.”

They were in Minnesota, the only guests at a cozy B&B situated along the desolate north shore of Lake Superior, dispatched to investigate a series of disappearances. In four years, six hikers had vanished into the dense wilderness that crowded them on all sides, the most recent only a month ago. All without explanation, all without a trace. All in winter or early spring.

“Also,” he said, “I ran you a bath.” He wagged his eyebrows at her. Their two rooms were joined Brady Bunch style by a big bathroom. With his and hers sinks and a jetted tub big enough for two.

“Thank you,” she said, ignoring the eyebrows. Two months since they’d... reconnected during the case that had them seeing doubles. Since then, a handful of times. Always on her terms. And afterward she’d retreat to her own bed, her own place. To her well-worn routines and familiar paces. To her life without him. That’s just the way it was.

Today they’d hiked and skied narrow harepin trails that connected this little town to the next one up the way. They’d found nothing unusual, encountered no promising witnesses. They had, however, seen a moose. Which had titillated Mulder to no end. He’d prattled on as they stood on an overlook, red rock tumbling down hundreds of feet to the translucent icy blue shore below. His voice tended to pierce the pristine quiessence.

The incidents seemed to her, so far at least, wholly unconnected. The woods were vast and unforgiving. There were a lot of ways things could go wrong out there.

Speaking of, they’d needed to dash to make their connecting flight at O’Hare. Her bag hadn’t made it. Mulder, who’d crammed all his gear into a carry on, was sitting pretty. They’d stopped by the store on the way up and she’d procured the basics. But her coat, toasty enough for D.C. winters, hadn’t kept her warm or dry enough all day.

“Any luck? Does Francine have outerwear you can borrow tomorrow?”

The proprietors lived a quarter mile up the dirt road. Scully had walked there when they returned to the lodge to inquire, getting caught in the rain on the way back. Mulder’d gone inside to stoke the flames in the radial stone hearth that anchored the center of the common room.

“She does. She’s going to bring over some options in the morning. She’s five ten, but I’ll see if I can make something work.”

She had stripped down to her newly purchased thermal underwear by the door, which clung soupily to her skin. Mulder, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, was blowing on his chili and trying to act like he wasn’t eyeballing her bits.

“I think that material is wicking moisture toward your skin, instead of the other way around,” Mulder said, waving his spoon helpfully in her direction.

“For the love of… Fuck.” Scully said, turning the pocket of her jacket inside out. Water spilled onto the floor. She held up her phone. Drenched and dead.

“I saw some rice up here,” Mulder said, standing and opening a cabinet. He was himself sporting navy blue long johns and thick gray socks. All bone dry. He placed her phone into a cereal bowl and poured white rice over the top until it was submerged.

“Should be okay by morning,” he said.

“That’s optimistic,’ she said, walking over to the fire and warming her hands. She grasped her shirt by the edges and peeled it off, shaking it out and arranging it on the hearth to dry. Mulder brought her a blanket, slipped it over her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she said.

As he ferried over her sodden clothes from the doorway and spread them out closer to the fire, she unhooked her bra and slipped it off under the blanket. She laid it flat next to her shirt.

“Were those your only pajamas?” Mulder asked, adding a large unsplit log to the fire. Sparks scattered as he pulled the screen closed and stepped away. Flames licked the log and began to nibble at it and she stared, transfixed by the transformation, the atoms bouncing and shifting, reconfiguring into new molecules. The resultant bald heat against her pale, chilled skin felt good.

“Yes,” she said.

“You want to borrow something to sleep in?”

She squinted at him, slipping out of her pants. She wanted her suitcase.

“I like to see you naked as much as the next guy, Scully. More, even. But you’ve got to bundle up in these parts. My bedroom got cold last night.”

“Mine too,” she said. She’d woken up early, nose and hands red and stiff as they’d been caught outside the down quilt. Through the big window at dawn the gray ice blanketing the lake groaned as it shifted and broke. She kicked off the covers and made her way toward the smell of woodsmoke and hot food. She found Mulder already sipping coffee, feet up by the banked blaze.

“You know what, Scully? Let’s head back to Duluth in the morning and get you more gear. Let’s not fuck around. We could be here for a few more days at least.”

“Take me to bed,” she said.

“I can do that,” he said, nodding. He hoisted her up, bounced her easily in his arms and strode down the hall. “You don’t want to eat? Or take a bath?” He toed open the door to her room.

“Your bed,” she said.

“Right away, Miss” he said, nodding. He backed out of her room and carried her instead through the door to his room.


End file.
